


Through The Cracks

by orphan_account



Series: Robin's Song [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Being loud, Damian is 18, In A Handbasket, M/M, Masturbation, Of-age, Oh Dear, Prequel, Revenge, i'm going to hell it seems, jason todd approves of this idea, not a child! Dami, see you all there folks!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7395235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prequel to "Don't You Like Surprises?" (though both can be read seperately).</p><p>Dick is realizing quick that he can't ignore Damian; Damian is naturally making it more difficult to even try. Revenge ensured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through The Cracks

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel piece to "Don't you like surprises?" - I wanted to explore Dick's side of the attraction a bit more, and wanted to give some prerequisite to some of their playful nature. Rated for safety.

Watching Damian sharpen his blade was like watching the sun rise for the first time. Except the sun rising gave most people hope, where as watching Damian drag his sword over the wet stone gave Dick this sort of exhilerating thrill, the sounds making his heart leap in his chest. He wondered if maybe this was just another item to add to the long list of weird and fucked up quirks he had, but watching the younger man do it now quickly made him realize it was something much deeper than that. It was nothing to do with the weapon and more to do with it's owner. 

Damian, with his eyes lowered and his hair dropping into his face when he was lazy and didn't feel like doing it on days like today, had this intense concentration about it. It was a mindless task, but Damian made it look like an artform, the way the pads of his fingers pressed into the side of the steel, the tightening strength in his jaw as he repeated his motions over and over again. It was the sense of dedication that drove Dick nuts. Many years ago, it drove him crazy, and not in the best way as he contemplated shipping Damian off to a boarding school or to the circus or something, _anything_ to keep the little bastard away from his strained nerves. But now, he envied it. He envied the fixation the young vigilante had in every task her did, wished he had that kind of comitment. 

And it certainly didn't help that Damian had grown from this sweet looking demon-eyed little boy into this demonic looking and sweet eyed young man;  _Even Lucifer was an Angel._ It was something that Dick punished himself for feeling when he first found that sort of attraction. He remembered it clearly, when Bruce had asked him to fill in for Batman for a little while when he went undercover for some major sting thing he had going. Dick naturally agreed, his only comfort being that it wasn't a perminant situation. Between that and being able to patrol with his Robin, which admittedly, Dick missed. He mised hanging out with his little Dami, missed when it was a slow night and they'd camp up on a rooftop and eat some ridiculous sugary candy or, when it was Summer and the Fair was in town, cotton candy. So it was needless to say that Dick more than anything was excited to be back with his partner again. Except when Dick started to notice things about his little bat. Things like how he bit his lip, the way his body stretched in the morning or when he was tired, the subtle curves and swells of his muscles. Things Dick never thought he'd actually notice before. 

It started as a sincere attraction, just one man noticing how attractive another man was. But then Dick noticed how the younger man would do little things that really pushed the envelope. How Damian would always have his favorite cup of coffee while he sipped on the same tea he's been drinking everyday since they first met. Or how Damian's lips would twitch into this lopsided smirk when Dick would acknowledge his presence, or how he never shrank away with frustration when Dick would ruffle his hair childishly. It was the way Damian would lean in to his touch every time, the way he'd linger in hugs, lick his lips upon occasion and blood rushing to his ears and cheeks. It was all that, that had caused Dick to question his sanity. 

He blamed his attraction to his childhood crush on Bruce; something that he cringed at to this day. Because even though he didn't feel like that at all, Dick still loved watching Bruce work, could still marvel at just how  _lucky_ that man's lovers were. Still, the fascination with his attraction to the younger Wayne confused him. Surely, Damian was nothing like Bruce and yet,  _he was identicle._ Damian had toasted and sun-kissed skin, his hair the same kind of thick and coal-colored like his father, the same brow line that sat low into the green eyes that he inherited from his mother, the much leaner and lengthier figure from her as well. Still, Damian had that Wayne attitude. Know-it-all (because he did), cocky, contingency plan for everything, the best at everything he did, determined, quiet, and beneath the hard exterior of the trademarked glare, caring and tender. 

So now he had to live with it, had to watch in moments like this, when Damian was listening to music and sharpening his kinves and toys for tonight's patrol and not paying attention to how Dick _watched._ Biting his tongue he left, not wanting to disturb the boy in his preperations for tonight with Bruce as his Batman; Bruce and not  _him._

Slumping into a spot on a sofa near the backend of the Cave, Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping his headwache would go away. It didn't. So he just lay there, eyes closed, lost in the empty space between being wide awake and completely passed out, the time passing around him. His previous partners, both Batman and Robin left for patrol and Dick thought wryly that if he could stay there that long and simply not  _think_ that he'd most definietly be able to do it for hours more. He enjoyed this. Because his brain never stopped, never allowed him to breathe. But when what only seemed like moments had passed, Dick found a slightly smaller body crashing next to him, the weight of kevlar and smell of blood stinging his nose in that incredible way that excited him with this pump of adrenaline. "You've been here for hours." Damian's voice sounded like he could possibly be questioning Dick's reasoning, but instead, Dick could feel him smile. "How do you turn off like that? I'm jealous."

"You have much to learn, young grasshopper." Dick giggled when Damian broke his position and sat up, glaring at him darkly. 

"You're obnoxious. I'm going to shower." And just like that, what little time Dick had managed to steal from Damian, he was left alone again as Damian walked by the back end of the couch, letting his hand push through Dick's hair softly before tugging it harshly, yanking back the older man's head in paind. "Sweet dreams, Grayson."

"You too, Demon Brat." Dick's name calling earned him a swift green-colored middle finger in the air. He chuckled, rubbing his sensitive scalp as he lay back into his spot. 

But he couldn't stay there. He grew restless, his thoughts lingering more on how Damian's hands felt in his hair. He hated to admit it, but he liked it. Liked all of it, even the punishment dealt by nearly ripping his hair out. Throwing his legs uncrossed and swinging forward to get up, he groaned, feeling like he should really be above this kind of shit. 

But he realized quickly that it was simply not the case when he passed through the hallway and heard a muffled noise. Confused, he followed the noise, not even stoping to contemplate that perhaps he realy shouldn't be in Damian's room. The constant rushing of water hitting tile gave way to white noise when Dick's ears found the noise again. His ears, and luckily for him, not his eyes. He couldn't see in the mirror that was too fogged up, but he knew, just what was happening. He heard Damian moan again, let out a soft curse in arabic and Dick felt his own pants become a bit too tight for comfort. Shaking his head, feeling like this was a major violation of privacy, he began to walk away, moving quicly so as to not be deteceted. "Grayson..." The mangled cries came from the bathroom and Dick stopped just short of running, no longer being able to tolerate _those_ kinds of noises ever again.

All the same, it happened again the following night. And the night after that. Each time, Damian's voice getting louder and louder, his actions getting more bold _(he seriously left the shower curtain open just yesterday!_ ). And it became painfully clear to Dick that Damian somehow figured him out, solved the mystery that wasn't so unknown about his attraction. And the little shit was using it against him now. And while few could rarely admit having seen Dick and Jason get along, perhaps the moments they held dearest were the ones they spent plotting against Batman's current Robin. And Dick knew, had Jason been here, he would have approved of this _particularly_ diabolical plan of revenge. 

It was late, far later than most patrols would lend to in the middle of the week. But Damian's tired eyes paid no mind, letting him drift and wonder off into little thoughts of nothing, like the way he followed the pattern the vaccum left in the carpet or the shadows that danced on the wall of the hallway as he walked by. Yawning and wondering just where Dick was, he smiled at the little games he'd been playing, knowing that they were working. Dick had kept his distance, kept his words short, his eye contact minimal... and the blush found a perminant home on the man's cheeks. He wonderd if maybe he should mix it up a bit, find ways to really torture Dick, but his thoguhts stopped abruptly when moans sounded from a room just down the hall. From  _Dick's_ room. He tried to turn his feet left, to pull himself into his own room that awaited his return, but his mind and his heart had very different ideas of what Damian wanted, and soon, his heart won as he approached the just parted doorway to Dick's darkened room. Well, mostly, Damian noted, as a soft glow still shone. To what, Damian couldn't quite figure until he realized that this sort of light came from a computer. Another low growl and Damian knew full well what he expected to find through the cracks in the doorway, not bothering to turn back one bit. No, something that sat hot and low within his stomach told him that he  _needed_ to see this, that same part that told him it was okay to harbor such erotic feelings for Nightwing. He peeked forward more and had to bite his tongue at the site he saw. Head thrown back, his hips thrusting upwards into his own fist, his other hand steadying himself on his desk, all with a video playing in the background. Damian didn't know what was worse, the fact that he had never, in his wildest dreams, imagined that the site of Dick Grayson pumping himself like that would get him this hard or that he's actually  _seen_ that video before; which could possibly mean one of two things. Either they shared a similar taste in porn or Dick  _knew_ of Damian's preference to this partuclar scene. All the same, blood rushed to his cheeks as he found himself leaning his hips closer to the edge of the doorway. 

Running back to his room, Damian shook his head furiously, as though he were trying to unsee what he had just seen, and yet, he didn't want to. Wanted to remember all the little details. All the little things that made him dizzy with want, made his mouth water a little. He tried sleeping that night, but he couldn't. It was all he could think about, and it drove him beyond crazy, as though nothing but the real thing would truly satiate him enough to feel comfortable enough to sleep. 

Down the hall, DIck Grayson smiled, the subtle cries from the room across the way his little trophies for the performance he put on tonight. 


End file.
